The Narrow Sea: 284 AC: 3 Days Later:
The sailing had been hard and Arthur doubted he would ever get used to it. Being stuck on the same ship for days on end had a way of numbing the mind and he found no respite in watching the waves or birds that flew overhead. At least he had his sworn brother, Barristan, to keep him occupied and he had the sharp mind of Rhaella to keep him company. Breathing in the salty air, Arthur watched the sailors go about their tasks on the deck of the ship. Behind him, Richard Lonmouth was shouting orders and giving out jobs for his men. Arthur owed these men his life and had they not acted as fast as they did when the Baratheon ships came, he doubted he would be alive this very moment.
Arthur had spent the last few days making everyone on board of his ship, privy to his plans. He told them of Varys' suggestion to meet with a man named Illyrio in Pentos. Despite Richards bleating's, he eventually acquiesced to Arthurs plans and set a course for the Free City. As Arthur sat on a box on the deck, he spotted Barristan appear from the bowels of the ship, a mug of water in his hand. Barristan made his way over to Arthur, a satisfied look appearing on his ageing features.
"Something on your mind, Arthur?" Barristan asked, handing him some water.
"I was just thinking, Barristan. Not much else to do out here." Arthur laughed, sipping his water.
"Aye that is true, what occupies your thoughts?"
"Essos, brother. More precisely this Illyrio. I am concerned about what his true motives are."
"I imagine they are the same as Varys' own. The Spider hasn't let us down yet, Arthur. I don't think he would now." Barristan smiled, laying a reassuring hand on Arthurs shoulder before standing up and walking to the wheel where Richard was doing his duty.
Arthur smiled at his sworn brothers reassurance. He sat a moment more on the deck before making his way down to check on Aemon and the Queen. Making his way through he narrow corridors of the bowels of the ship, he arrived at the Queens private quarters. Entering, he saw the Queen laying on the bed, her silver hair hanging loosely over her bare shoulders and her violet eyes were immediately set on the rugged knight that stood in her doorway. Around her, stood the midwife who held the young Aemon, feeding him at her breast. The air around Arthur hung heavy with the scent of perfumes and the dim candlelight danced around the room.
"Ser Arthur, a pleasure to see you. Please come sit beside me." Rhaella smiled, motioning to the gap on the bed.
"As you wish, my Queen." Arthur bowed, moving to the bed and sitting beside his Queen. Her beauty in that moment he could not believe, her violet eyes almost piercing him and her hair shining with the candlelight. Though he knew he would never enter into anything romantic with Rhaella, he could never deny that she embodied everything that a Targaryen Queen should look like.
"What brings you to my quarters, Arthur?" She asked, her hand lingering on her swollen belly.
"I've come to make sure you and the King are fine, Rhaella."
"I assure you, Arthur, we are both fine. I believe Aemon is enjoying his journey."
Arthur looked over to Aemon, who was being gently rocked to sleep by the midwife. "It seems so. There is something I wish to ask you Rhaella."
"You can ask anything, Arthur."
"This Illyrio, do you know of him?"
"No. I have heard he is a cheesemonger and deals in spices, slaves and everything in between. Though, if he is friends with Varys, I imagine he has much grander designs than selling cheese."
"I am inclined to agree." Arthur sighed, before making his way over to the now sleeping Aemon. "He sleeps soundly, no?"
"Yes, he does. It has made the journey much easier, I've found." Rhaella chuckled.
Arthur ran his finger across the cheek of Aemon, before saying his goodbyes to the Queen and her midwife. He made his way through the bowels of the ship to his own quarters and upon arriving, he unbuckled Dawn from his back and lay it gently across a table that stood against one of the walls. He then lay on the bed and found that sleep came quickly, something he was most grateful for.
Kings Landing: 284 AC: The Same Day:
The throne room was filled to the brim with Lords from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms. The midday sun shot through the stained glass windows and cast a pinkish light over the red stones of the room. In the middle of it all stood Stannis Baratheon, his anger portrayed clearly across his face. In front of him sat his brother, Robert, whose massive frame sat upon the Iron Throne. Beside him, stood Jon Arryn, his old features scowling at Stannis. Robert looked upon his younger brother with a disappointed gaze, the failure of Stannis' attack on Dragonstone had already been heard by the whole Realm several times over.
"Stannis." Robert boomed, his eyes narrowing.
"Robert." Stannis bluntly replied.
"Tell me what happened, Stannis."
"I let slip the fleet on your orders despite it not being ready. I arrived upon Dragonstone to find that their fleet had already set sail. I gave chase to the largest of the ships but I lost them in the darkness."
"Lost them in the Darkness." Robert repeated. "Your my brother, Stannis and had anyone else failed me like this, I would have their head. Instead I shall give you Dragonstone, let it be a reminder of your failure."
Stannis grew angered at the insult Robert threw at his feet. "Is that it, Robert? No question as to how they knew to depart at just the right time?"
"You mean to tell me that there is a spy in my court? Do you have evidence of this, Stannis."
"I do not, no. It is too coincidental, Robert."
"Begone, Stannis. I'll not have you look for excuses for your failures nor will I have you fill my court with false notions of treason."
Stannis angrily stormed out of the throne room, as Robert dismissed everyone and made his own way out of the throne room, Jon Arryn following closely behind. To the side of them all watched Varys, the shadows hiding his sly features. His thoughts turned to Stannis and how right he was about everything he had said. If only Robert could look at the wider picture as to why Stannis' attack had failed. Though with a man such as Robert, there was no bigger picture. If he could not befriend it or kill it, it did not matter to him. There was no great game to him and he wondered whether being ignorant to it all would in time, benefit his rule. It certainly didn't now.
Making his way from the throne room, Varys walked to his private chambers. The time on the walk he used to ponder on his schemes and plans. Letters would have to be sent to Illyrio about the arrival of the Targaryens and how to proceed. He concluded that he would probably have to travel to Pentos himself eventually, but not now and most likely not for a few years at least. Arriving at his chambers, he sat down and began to write a letter to his dearest friend.
Illyrio,
The Targaryens should have arrived at your Manse by now and I would ask you to offer them any comfort you can afford. Their journey will have been hard and I ask you to make the Queen Rhaella as comfortable as you can due to the child she bears.
Furthermore, the King is accompanied by two of the greatest fighters that Westeros has to offer. Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan Selmy. These men will help shape the King to become the best man he could be and so I would ask you to forgive their initial mistrust of you. Another thing, send Jon Connington to them. His new connections in the Golden Company can serve us well.
Your Dearest Friend,
Varys.
Varys looked over his letter and racked his brain for his anything he may have missed. Satisfied with what he had wrote, he made his way to his private raven and sent it on its way to Pentos. He hoped that the bird will arrive before the Dragons did, lest Illyrio be surprised with unexpected guests such as Arthur and Barristan. He wouldn't be surprised if Illyrio already knew, as his friend was as crafty as he was and there was not much that happened that he did not know about. Information, after all, was power.
Pentos: 284 AC: 1 Day Later:
Illyrio awoke in his massive bed, the warm silks sliding off his bulging belly and they did a poor job of hiding his sack like breasts. Beside him, the sun shone on one of the most beautiful girls he had ever laid eyes on. Her dark hair all but reflected the light and the curves of her body were complimented by the silks that lay upon her. His piggy eyes took all of her in and he stroked his red forked beard. He doubted that a woman such as this would ever lay with him if she were not slave, as he knew he was not as handsome or as fit as he was in his youth. However, he needed her company in the previous night to ease his mind for what was to come today. Today was the day that he finally met with the King, at least to Varys he was the King. But befriending a King did have its benefits.
"Leave me, my dear." Illyrio whispered to the girl beside him, who quickly awoke and pulled some silks across her naked form. Illyrio watched her firm arse bounce gently as she walked away, smiling to himself as he took in the sight. Being a Magister had its perks indeed, he thought. Standing up, he walked to the balcony and took in the fresh Essosi air and sun. He basked in the light for a moment, his large form looking a far cry from the statue of himself in the gardens below him. Walking from the balcony, he dressed himself in the finest gown he could muster, the orange and blue patterns running down the garment as if it were a river of thread. He then put on his many gold and jeweled rings, the idea of impressing his guests being ever present on his mind. As he dressed, he was interrupted by one of his guards.
"Magister, a raven has arrived for you." The young guard bowed, his hand outstretched bearing a scroll.
"Very good." Illyrio smiled, his crooked teeth showing as he took the note from his guard.
Reading it, he was happy to see it was from his dear friend, Varys. He read it and quickly discarded it. Of course, he already knew that Arthur Dayne and Barristan Selmy were with the young Targaryen. They were the reason he had spent money on having extra guards posted in his manse, just in case anything went wrong. What did surprise him was the fact that Varys wanted them to meet with Jon Connington. The recently exiled Lord had only just gained membership with the Golden Company and it would be some time before he was of any use to them, even with his name. Sighing, he quickly found some spare parchment and ink and wrote a note to Jon. Having only just made contact with the Griffin Lord, Illyrio knew of the mistrust that Connington bore towards him, but the introduction of the surviving Targaryens will quickly sway him to their side.
Finishing his note, Illyrio called for a guard to have it sent to the Disputed Lands, where he knew the Golden Company was encamped for the time being. Having handed the note away, Illyrio had his servants spray him with heavy perfumes in an attempt to mask the unpleasant stench that seeped from his flesh. He could not allow himself to be embarrassed today of all days. Making his way from his chambers, Illyrio found himself in his private dining room. Before lay the most exquisite meats, cheese and fruits that money could buy. From the freshest cured hams to the finest of luxury cheeses, Illyrio had no lack of choice. Sitting down, he began to gorge himself on whatever he fancied in that moment, as the servants around the room watched on with rumbling stomachs.
Once he had sated his enormous appetite, he spent the next few hours ensuring that everything in his manse was up to the unusually higher standard that he had set the night before. He walked around the guards and servants, ensuring that they looked their best and that the food they would serve was of the finest quality. Finding that he was happy with everything, Illyrio took the time to relieve himself. As he did so, another one of his servants startled him making him almost piss on the wall.
"For fuck sake! What is it?" Illyrio shouted, turning to the frightened servant, his fury clear in his eyes.
"Apologies Magister, but your guests are arriving in the harbor as we speak." The servant shakily bowed.
Illyrio's eyes widened, believing he had more time available to him before they arrived. "Prepare two wheelhouses and my guards. I want to be at the docks by the time they are pulling in."
The servant quickly bowed and ran to do as his master had bid. Illyrio walked out from the privy and told another servant to clean up his piss as he did so. He walked as quickly as he could to where his wheelhouse was at the gates of his manse and climbed in, his flesh bouncing as he did so. The wait for his guards made him impatient as he sat in his wheelhouse, as the sun oppressively beat down upon it and it made Illyrio feel as though he was being roasted in a pot. After some shouting and rambling, his guards made their way to him and they were finally bound for the docks.
Arriving at the docks, Illyrio stepped out of his wheelhouse and took in the sight before him. Fifteen ships he counted in total, all bearing the three headed dragon on their sails with the largest one catching his shrewd eye most of all, its dragonhead figurehead solidifying his suspicions that this was the one that carried the young King. Spraying himself once more with a personal perfume, he stood and watched as the ship pulled into the docks. He saw on the deck the silver hair of what could only be Queen Rhaella, her pregnant belly marking her as only being so. Beside her, he saw the young prince Viserys who held the hand of his mother. Next to them, he saw the two famed knights that Varys placed much concern over. In the arms of the younger knight, he saw a young babe. Illyrio smiled at the sight, finally being able to lay eyes on the one that could, in the future, bring him so much power.
He waited and watched a few moments more as the large ship came to a slow halt in the water at the docks. As a group, they all stepped off of the ship and Illyrio quickly made his way to those weary passengers. "I am so happy to see you all arriving safe and sound." Illyrio smiled. "I am Illyrio Mopatis, Magister of Pentos."
"Well met, Magister. I am Queen Rhaella Targaryen and this is my son, Prince Viserys Targaryen. Behind us, is Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan Selmy. Ser Arthur carries with him the rightful King, Aemon Targaryen. The ship still carries Ser Willem Darry and Ser Richard Lonmouth, though they are busy unloading our belongings." Rhaella announced.
Illyrio noticed how Arthur held the young babe tighter at the mention of his name. "A pleasure, truly." Illyrio bowed. "My servants can bring your belongings to my manse, your knights can rest and join me now, Queen Rhaella."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Magister. They carry some...delicate and personal cargo. I trust only them." Rhaella smiled.
"Ah very well, if you insist I won't pry. Please, come." Illyrio beamed, gesturing to the two wheelhouses that sat behind him.
Rhaella and Arthur climbed into Illyrio's personal wheelhouse, whereas Viserys and Barristan entered the second. Together they moved through the streets of Pentos, surrounded by Illyrio's guards. Arthur looked out of the window and took in the sites of this new and strange land. He had never been to Essos before let alone Pentos and it was nothing like he thought it was. Of course, as a boy he had heard tales and stories of Pentos and its grandeur, but nothing could prepare him for seeing it with his own eyes. He looked upon the men and women who dyed their hair in eccentric colors ranging from hot pinks and to cool dark blues. Through the gaps in the buildings, his gaze caught sight of the great red temple in the distance. The babe in his arms seemed to stir softly every time he set his eyes upon it, yet he could not decipher the reason why.
"Taking in the sights, Ser Arthur?" Illyrio smiled.
"I am, Magister. I have read of Pentos but I had never thought of setting foot here." Arthur replied, his stoic features betraying nothing.
"It is a beautiful city. Many Western Lords come here for a visit and we are more than happy to entertain them."
Arthur grunted at the large man before him. In the back of his mind he did not fully trust the Magister. His appearance and manner of speaking put him at ease slightly, but he could see deep down in his eyes that there was something more to him than he was letting on.
"Magister? I trust you have ample space for us all. We have many men with us from the garrison that was placed at Dragonstone." Rhaella inquired, her violet eyes never leaving Illyrio's own.
"My manse is large enough for any man, and more comfortable than your drafty Westerosi castles. Those who we cannot make room for, I will happily pay out of mine own pocket for accommodation and food."
"That is very kind of you, Magister. I cannot imagine how we can repay you."
"Think of it as a gift, Queen Rhaella. One of many, I assure you."
Arthur watched Illyrio smile at his Queen with those crooked teeth of his. He knew of course that these gifts that Illyrio intended to bestow on them, were not gifts at all, and demanded repayment in the future. Arthur knew that men such as Illyrio rarely did anyone a favor and not expect to get something in return.
After a few more minutes, the wheelhouses eventually stopped outside an enormous manse. To Arthur, it looked more like a castle than someone's personal residence, and he could hardly fathom that all of this belonged to one man. "My manse. Please, step out and take it in. I am honored to have esteemed guests such as yourselves step foot inside." Expressed Illyrio.
Stepping outside, Arthur was even more astonished. The twelve foot high walls that stood before him had iron spikes atop of them and the gate was guarded by Unsullied that looked as though they were becoming a little too big for their dark leather armor. The sight amused Arthur slightly as Barristan appeared from behind him with Viserys holding his hand.
"Something amuse you, Arthur." Barristan grinned.
"No, just the Unsullied that are here. I had thought them to be the fierce, unwavering fighters that I have read about, yet they do not look as though they could kill a fly let alone a man." Arthur softly spoke, to the snickers of Viserys.
"Hm...I see what you mean. Though I would wager that these men are still as deadly as they were before their...change in size."
"Ser Arthur?" Rhaella spoke, interrupting the two men's japes. "Please escort me."
"At once, my Queen." Arthur grinned, as he made his way to Rhaella's side and began to walk with her.
"Give Aemon to me, Arthur. I'd much rather you had your hands free at this moment." She whispered to him, as he gently but quickly gave Aemon into her safe arms.
Before them led Illyrio, his flesh bouncing as he walked. He walked them through his personal gardens and Arthur wagered it made the gardens at the Red Keep look small. In the middle of it all stood a fountain which contained a statue of a naked boy who must have been no more than sixteen name-days old. Arthur and Barristan had to do their best not to laugh when Illyrio told them it was a carving of himself from many years ago. Arthur had a hard time believing him, but as they continued to walk some more, he noticed how gracefully Illyrio moved and wondered how a man of his size was able to do so. When Illyrio told him he used to be a Bravo, it made much more sense to him.
Eventually the group found themselves in the manse proper, and Illyrio had his servants show his new guests to their quarters. Arthur was happy to find that they'd all be housed in the same wing of the manse, and that they'd only be separated by a few walls. Inside Arthurs room, he could not believe the size of it. It was almost like a house, it was so large. When he then saw Rhaella's quarters, he was astonished. A palace within a palace, it seemed like. Certainly, Illyrio was trying his hardest to impress. As he made his way around the Queens new quarters, Ser Willem and Ser Richard arrived with her belongings, which most importantly, carried the chest with the Dragon Egg and Dark Sister, along with Aemon's proof of birth.
After allowing them to settle in, Illyrio had them all called to his massive dining room. Upon arriving, the table was laid with the most luscious of foods and the sweetest of treats. The table itself was as long as any Arthur had seen, and he wagered that it could sit a hundred men. However, at the end of it sat the hulking mass of Illyrio, who had already begun to eat before they had even sat down.
"Please, sit and help yourselves. I imagine you haven't eaten as well, out at sea." Chuckled Illyrio.
As one, they all sat down and began to eat. None were as eager to eat as Viserys, who could not begin to comprehend the amount of sweet treats that were placed in front of him and Rhaella had to scold him more than once to mind his manners when eating. Once they had all had their fill, Illyrio finally broke the air of small talk that permeated around the table, as he ordered his servants to clear the table of plates and food.
"I hope you have found everything to your liking, my friends, but we must now turn to more serious matters." Illyrio announced, his hands clasped and resting on the table, his eyes looking at everyone in front of him.
"I see. What would you like to discuss?" Rhaella answered.
"I understand that you all know my dear friend, Varys. I wanted to assure you all we both seek the same goals. To see your King crowned in his rightful place."
"Why?" Arthur interjected. "You would not be doing this out of the kindness of your heart, Magister."
"No, I would not. However, I believe we can help each other, Ser Arthur. All I seek, once it is all done, is a position at court."
"A position at court? Your willing to give us the Iron Throne for a position at court?" Barristan doubted.
"Master of Coin, to be more specific and if I was to earn more rewards for my humble service, I would not be objected to it."
Arthur laughed silently to himself. The man was much more clever than he let on. He knew that having a man such as Illyrio in charge of the Crowns finances would not be an inherently bad thing though, Illyrio would be sure to skim a little off the top every now and then. Before Arthur could say anything, Rhaella answered for him.
"That can work with us just fine, Magister. I am sure when the time comes, you will be handsomely rewarded."
"I humbly thank you, Queen Rhaella. I am happy we can see eye to eye on this." He smiled, his crooked teeth showing yet again.
"Sorry, my Queen, but what is our plan. We have only a handful of ships and hardly a hundred men." Richard questioned, his concern showing.
Before Rhaella could answer, Illyrio answered for her. "There is a man that should be here in a matter of days by the name of Jon Connington. I am sure you're all aware of the recent exiled Lord, and you'll be happy to learn that he has recently joined with the Golden Company."
"The Golden Company? You're telling me he commands the Golden Company already?" Arthur asked.
"Not yet, no, Ser Arthur. But in time, who knows." Illyrio smiled.
"The Golden Company would not fight for us. They supported Maelys and the Blackfyre's in the war of the Ninepenny Kings. I don't see why they would now." Barristan deduced.
"Black or red, a dragon is still a dragon, Ser Barristan. When you killed Maelys on the Stepstones, it was the end of the male line of House Blackfyre. And Aemon will give the exiles what Bittersteel and House Blackfyre never could. He will take them home." Illyrio answered.
"So say we convince the Golden Company, then what? We need allies in Westeros." Arthur asked.
"I am sure the Dornish will be more than happy to take up your cause, though I imagine the nature of Aemon's birth will cause some contention with them. Hopefully, the promise of vengeance against those that killed Elia is enough to sway them to your side."
Arthurs eyes narrowed at how this man knew of Aemon's birth, though he imagined that Varys would have already filled him in on every minute detail by now. "Who else?" Arthur asked.
"We do not know yet, though these things take time and opportunities can reveal themselves as time goes on." Illyrio answered.
After talking some more, Illyrio eventually bid them good night and escorted them all to their chambers. Arthur entered his chambers and placed Dawn on a table. He lay down on his bed, and shut his eyes. His thoughts were ever present on the Magisters words. He knew that Illyrio was correct with his deduction, and opportunities will present themselves as time went on. After all, they had plenty of time to plot and plan their revenge for when the time came for Aemon's ascension, and should the Dragon Egg that he cradled with hatch, who would stand against them then?
A/N: Thanks for reading. Apologies it took me a few days to get this out as I have been busy with work and such. Up next, will definitely be Robs coronation and Rhaella should be giving birth. Many thanks for reading, again, means a lot.